


Touching the Void

by faithtastic



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/F, Femslash, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-06
Updated: 2011-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:38:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithtastic/pseuds/faithtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a visit to her old high school, Lilah 'recruits' Bethany Chaulk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touching the Void

Head propped on her hand, Bethany watched with piqued interest as a woman in what was clearly a $1000 suit walked into the classroom. The woman approached Mrs Fernandez, the teacher, and shook her hand before placing a leather briefcase on the teacher's desk.

A general lull fell over the students as they eyed the well-heeled stranger - youngish, probably in her late twenties, and drop-dead beautiful. She had eyes of an indeterminate colour and perfectly styled brown hair that fell to just below her shoulders. For one instant, this woman who looked like she'd just stepped off a catwalk had single-handedly injected glamour into their lives.

Mrs Fernandez addressed the class. "This is Miss Morgan. She's an associate at a prestigious Los Angeles law firm and an alumni of this school. Miss Morgan's generously given up her time to give you a talk on the legal profession so please give her your full attention. That includes you, Jason."

There were some disruptive noises of dissent - including a few wolf whistles - but they soon fizzled out as Miss Morgan walked over to the blackboard, her four inch heels clicking on the linoleum. She picked up a piece of chalk and wrote her name on the board.

Perched on the edge of the teacher's desk, Miss Morgan's long legs became the focus of the majority of the students' attention, enclosed as those limbs were in sheer black stockings.

"Let me tell you a little about Wolfram & Hart..." Miss Morgan began, surveying the goggle-eyed teens before her with an even stare.

As Miss Morgan launched into her speech, Bethany sat up a little straighter, fascinated by this sleek, professional woman, so at odds with the peeling paintwork and ancient desks of the classroom. It seemed inconceivable that this successful, immaculately groomed lawyer had come from this place.

So she listened, enraptured. Not so much by the words - they washed over her unremembered - but by the speaker. Bethany watched, with a growing sense of anxiety, as Miss Morgan moved from her perch and stalked up the aisle between the columns of desks as she spoke. The woman stopped, just before Bethany's desk, and looked at her, as if she'd sensed Bethany's idle thoughts. Miss Morgan leaned down, hands on the desk, and Bethany caught the faintest scent of subtle perfume.

"What's your name?"

"Bethany," she supplied, shrinking back into her chair, feeling every bit the startled deer trapped in the glare of oncoming headlights.

"And what do you plan to do after high school?"

It was a question that petrified Bethany but one that constantly filled her thoughts. "Get a job, I guess." After she said it, she wanted to cringe.

Miss Morgan was clearly unimpressed, fixing Bethany with a dubious stare. "You guess? Don't you have ambitions?"

Bethany shrugged, painfully aware that every set of eyes in the room were on her. She wanted to disappear, become invisible, but she felt held in place by Miss Morgan's eyes - which on closer inspection were hazel. Finally, Miss Morgan withdrew and turned her attention back to the topic at hand.

After the talk, the students were invited to ask questions. Bethany kept her mouth firmly shut though there were a thousand things she wanted to know about Miss Morgan, about how she escaped this school, this backwater town.

 

 

It wasn't until after the bell rang to signal the end of the period, when the other students had sauntered out and the teacher had left, that Bethany shyly approached Miss Morgan.

"Excuse me," Bethany said quietly to the woman's back, busy as she was with the contents of her briefcase.

Miss Morgan turned and gave a cursory smile. "Bethany, isn't it?"

Bethany nodded, amazed that the woman had even remembered her name. She guessed people skills and a good memory were an essential part of the job. Still, it impressed her. "I was really interested in what you said today."

"You seemed sort of spaced out," Miss Morgan countered, amusement in her tone and a smirk on her face.

Bethany felt a blush rising in her cheeks and glanced down at her feet. "Sorry. I must seem like such an idiot to you."

Miss Morgan touched her arm and Bethany was unable to prevent herself from flinching. Old habits die hard. The woman gave her a sincere look. "Not at all. Everyone has potential. You just have to learn to... harness it."

"I'd just like to get out of this place, y'know?"

"Believe me, I understand." Miss Morgan's gaze flitted quickly from the door back to the girl in front of her. "Listen, I have a few calls to make but how would you like to meet up for coffee later?"

Bethany looked at her, mouth agape. She had to remind herself to speak. "Uh, yeah, sure." She couldn't believe this woman was talking time out of her schedule to speak to her.

Miss Morgan reached into her briefcase and took out a piece of card and a pen. She wrote quickly on the back of the card and handed it to Bethany. "This is the motel I'm staying at, and the phone number. Give me a call after sevenish."

Their fingers brushed as the card was handed over and Bethany tried to hide the jolt of surprise that shot up her spine. She nodded and left, feeling almost disorientated.

 

  
When the time rolled around, Bethany made the call from a call box. She couldn't make the call from home, not without arousing her dad's suspicions.

Miss Morgan picked up within four rings. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's Bethany."

"Sorry, I'm just out the shower. Why don't you come over here? You know the place?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"I'm in Room 16."

The woman's voice sounded so intimate over the phone that it made Bethany shiver. She hung up and walked the short distance to the motel. It was one of two in town and it took her all of five minutes to get there.

Outside the door to room 16, Bethany knocked and waited. Within a few moments, the door opened and Miss Morgan stood there towel drying her hair. If she was staring like a gawking teenage boy, Bethany hoped it didn't show. Miss Morgan moved aside to let her in and told her to make herself comfortable while she waited. Gingerly, Bethany sat on the bed and watched the muted TV set. The channel was tuned to CNN and Bethany's eyes flicked over the headlines that scrolled along the bottom of the screen. Wars, famine, tragedy - it seemed as though the whole world was desensitised to it all, as if the daily horrors became so submerged that it rendered you numb. At least, that was how she felt. Like, for the longest time things had been welling up inside her and now, in Miss Morgan, she saw that it was possible to escape.

Bethany listened carefully to the blast of the hairdryer in the bathroom and after a few minutes, Miss Morgan emerged with hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore tailored slacks and a lilac camisole that accentuated her trim body. Bethany supposed a gym membership came with that high-powered job and wondered if all the lawyers at Wolfram & Hart looked like fashion models.

"Have you eaten yet?" Miss Morgan asked, reaching for the remote to switch off the TV.

Bethany swallowed and averted her eyes from the glimpse of breasts as the older woman bent over. "No."

"Good. I was thinking we could order take-out. Unless you'd like to go somewhere?"

"No, take-out would be great, Miss Morgan."

"Call me Lilah. Chinese?"

"Sure."

While Miss Morgan -- Lilah -- placed their order for food on her cellphone, Bethany took off her jacket and laid it neatly on the bed. She was secretly pleased that they were staying here - it meant that this meeting wouldn't be spotted by one of her father's friends and be relayed back to him. He was at his weekly poker night tonight and wouldn't be back 'til late.

Ending the call, Lilah sat on the bed a few inches away. Bethany was staring down at her lap and felt a gentle touch on her back, fingertips just barely skimming acoss her skin. An involuntary shudder shook her.

"Is that a birthmark?"

Bethany glanced over her shoulder. "Yeah. I hate it." Yet another thing that marked her out as being different. She was glad it was somewhere that she couldn't easily see.

Lilah continued to trace the mark. "Why? It's beautiful." She spoke whimsically, "Looks like a flower."

Bethany turned and stared at her, feeling suddenly bold. "You're beautiful."

"That's very sweet," Lilah said, smiling faintly, eyes unreadable.

They looked at each other and Lilah, very slowly, leaned closer. "You're so pretty," Lilah said softly, the sincerity of her words wrapping around Bethany's skin.

"You're trembling," Lilah whispered, her breath hot against Bethany's ear.

Bethany closed her eyes. She felt lips then, soft against her own. A distant moan rose from the base of her throat. Lilah's arm encircled Bethany's waist, fingers slipping under the thin fabric of her shirt and caressing bare skin.

The older woman gently deepened the kiss, teasing Bethany's tongue with her own, darting out then retreating. Lilah tasted of expensive lipstick, the kind Bethany used to test on the back of her hand at the drugstore.

Bethany could see now, the tiny, almost imperceptible lines of age around Lilah's eyes, the creases of past smiles. It made her seem less ethereal, more tangible. "I want to see you," she murmured.

There was a sudden knock at the door and Lilah disentangled herself. "The food."

"Leave it," Bethany said breathlessly and Lilah only nodded, ignoring the repeated knocks that ceased after a minute or two. Instead Lilah pulled off the camisole she was wearing. Underneath she wore white lingerie. Her nipples were invitingly dark against the material.

With one hand, Lilah pressed Bethany onto her back and moved to unbutton the girl's jeans. She leaned down to place soft kisses on Bethany's abdomen and slowly tugged the jeans down, kissing each inch of thigh as it was revealed.

 

  
All Bethany could smell was sex and perfume.

It clogged her head and made her dizzy as she rocked against the slick velvet softness of Lilah's thigh. The friction between them, the pressure on Bethany's most sensitive parts, was the most incredible thing she'd ever felt. She couldn't control the moans that dropped rapidly from her lips. Her eyes wouldn't leave Lilah's as she rubbed her and then Bethany came so quickly and forcefully that she had to screw her eyes shut. Her entire body was tingling, her arms shaking as she held herself over Lilah.

Lilah stroked her, whispering softly.

She had no idea what Lilah was saying, that vital part of her brain having shut down from sensory overload. When Bethany opened her eyes again Lilah was looking at her, one arm thrown carelessly above her head.

Bethany sat on her heels, knees still straddling Lilah's hips. She happened to glance across the room and saw that the mirror had fallen off the far wall. Shards of broken glass were scattered across the floor. She looked back at Lilah but the older woman seemed unconcerned.

"Where'd you learn to fuck like that, Bethany?" Lilah's voice was full of amusement and a little husky. She titled her head as she contemplated Bethany.

Bethany shrugged, peeling strands of sweat-slicked hair away from her face. "Instinct, I guess."

"Mm, and the eagerness of youth."

Bethany wanted her again. Maybe Lilah saw the hunger in her stare. "That was my first time," she said urgently, intimately. She felt wetter than ever now.

Lilah pulled her towards her again, fingers sliding through her hair. "And it won't be the last."

Two hours later, they still lay tangled in the sheets. Bethany couldn't stop touching her - she was addicted. Her fingers and lips smelled of Lilah. All she could taste on her tongue was her. This had to come to an end eventually and Bethany was trying everything in her power to delay it.

Finally, when she made Lilah come again, the older woman put a stalling hand on Bethany's shoulder when she began to kiss her neck. "Bethany, are you trying to kill me?" she laughed breathlessly. Bethany pulled back to look at her. Lilah was flushed and beautiful and a small puddle of perspiration had collected on her collarbone. Bethany bent to lick it.

 

 

That night, Lilah drove her home. Bethany felt increasing trepidation the nearer they got to her place. Lilah was silent as she drove and Bethany watched her profile, regretful that she was completely composed again, not a hair out of place. All too soon, they pulled up outside the house and Lilah turned to look at her for the first time since they'd got into the car. The leather upholstery squeaked as she turned.

Impulsively Bethany leaned forward to kiss her goodnight but Lilah subtly drew back, leaving Bethany hovering precariously on the edge of her seat and feeling rather foolish.

"Sweetheart," she said softly, "we have to be discreet. You understand, don't you?"

Bethany nodded slowly but inside she felt bleak. So this was the brush off.

"Listen, I had a wonderful time. You're a sweet kid." Lilah paused and looked meaningfully at her passenger. "If you ever make it to LA, look me up."

Bethany nodded hopefully. She wanted to throw her arms around Lilah, kiss her, beg Lilah to take her to LA, right here in front of her father's house. Instead Bethany smiled, attempting a brave face.

"I will."


End file.
